A shudder runs through me. Hearing her call me husband is the hottest thing ever.
“Yes, ma’am!”
I close the door and sprint across the parking lot to the ice machine. When I’ve filled the bucket and turn around, I notice a town car that wasn’t there before. It would’ve stood out to me. Tinted windows and shiny rims don’t fit into this shady neighborhood.
The driver’s door opens. The first thing I see is a pair of exotic snakeskin boots and the pant leg of a forest green silk suit. A man gets out, eyes shadowed by a dark cowboy hat. He puffs on a cigar, thin lips twisting into a sleazy grin as he approaches.
A shiver creeps along my spine.
Something about the way he walks, jerky and stiff, makes me think he’s not of this world. Like he’s a…thing, wearing the skin of a human.
When he reaches me, he doesn’t say a word. His thick, jewelry-adorned fingers dive into his pocket and he holds out a business card.
Myheart stops.
I recognize the embossed name immediately. In our time on the road, Tally and I heard it spoken in hushed whispers by other musicians like an urban legend. Like a prayer. They say any singer managed by Rex Dalton makes it big.
Is this creep really him?
Dalton’s voice comes like a hiss. “I saw you performing at the Last Exit last night.”
My throat goes thick. I want to say I would’ve remembered a guy like him at our show, but the Last Exit is a popular trucker bar. The place gets pretty crowded during happy hour even if nobody cares about the music, only the cheap beer.
“Your girlfriend has talent.” Dalton’s grin widens and I half expect his jaws to split like a snake.
I know other artists would give an arm and a leg to talk to this guy, but everything about him rubs me the wrong way. He reminds me of a vampire. The Nosferatu kind, not the interview kind.
“My wife,” I correct him.
“Well,your wifehas talent…anda problem.” He points the smoldering end of his cigar at me. “You.”
My chest cracks.
“I’m gonna give it to you straight, boy. Country duos don’t sell. You’re a distraction from her path. Dead weight. You’re not even half the vocalist she is and your guitar skills are basic at best.”
This man is my self-doubt personified, morphed into a devil to confirm my worst fears. He’s an asshole, but he knows the industry and that’s his judgment:
I’m holding Tally back.
“But I’m generously offering you a choice,” he croons. With his other hand, he pulls a bundle of cash from his suit pocket.
Shit, I’ve never seen this much money.
“Break up with your pretty redbird, entrust her in my care,” he drawls. “An annulment is easy to get here in Vegas and I could even pull some strings for you. Tell her you don’t love her anymore. Vow to never speak to her again. Then I’ll make your country bumpkin a real star.”
I must’ve misheard.
Dalton blows smoke in my face as he tucks the bundle of cash into the front pocket of my shirt. I choke back a cough. “Consider this a consolation prize. An incentive to do the right thing. Ten thousand dollars, all yours.”
“You’re offering me money to break up with my wife?” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“All you have to do is disappear from her life and let her focus on her career.”
Anger breaks through my shock. I throw the cash at his feet. “Go fuck yourself.”
I make to head back to the room when Dalton catches me by the shoulder. A whiff of his sour cologne hits my nose and my stomach churns.
“But I thought you loved her?” he asks.
